People should be careful about making me play those bonding games. You know, like the one where you hold a ball of yarn, and toss it around the circle at each other, retaining your piece of string, and when it's your turn you say something deep and meaningful. Generally this is
The Friendship Web. But this Sunday, the woman's group at my church played it, and we were
Knitting Together with Love. You know, like in the Bible. This was a lovely idea. The ball was tossed to and fro, and as each participant caught (or retrieved, in some cases) the ball of yarn, they were asked a question which was supposed to give us a glimpse into their soul and help us to love them like a sister.
Problem. I was very crabby. Sleep-deprived, due to not going to bed until the wee hours the night before in order to maximize my movie watching time, and crabby. So some poor unsuspecting person threw the ball to me. The question? "Are you a crier?" Answer? "No." But I couldn't leave it there. I went on to say that I didn't enjoy crying and couldn't understand why some women liked to have a "good cry." Also, I admitted I don't understand why people cry during Testimony Meeting* at church. At which point, a large gasp passed around the room.
Oh, I'm sorry, did you not mean for me to be
that honest? We do seem to have quite a few criers amongst our congregation, come to think of it.
I've been thinking about our little knitted web o' delight ever since. My profession often leads me to participate in and even lead similar games. I had classes in college where we created binders full of such games. My boss has actually led us in a similar exercise several times, with great success. While it's never been my most favorite activity, I never cringed as much as I did when they pulled the ball of yarn out on Sunday. Upon reflection, I realized I have a little pearl of wisdom to share. And since I also know how irritating it is when people get all nit-picky about meetings/activities they did not plan (not that I ever have people do that to me...), I decided that instead of talking to the leaders of the activity, I would just post about it on my blog, all private-like. 'Cause I'm that kind of classy.
My pearl is this: these types of activities are meant to be trust-building exercises, and you are supposed to build upon the relationships already established. Since many of us had not established relationships, it was actually a dangerous game to play. Crazy people like me would say offensive things that those who do not know me would interpret as meaning I am a rude, rude person. Okay, that part might be true. But my point is this. You have to start with the simple questions (name, favorite color, what college you went to, how you react when balls of yarn are brought out), and build that rapport before you start asking the deep questions. Because I don't want to talk to strangers about my crying habits. Or what my hidden talents are. Or my most embarrassing moment. And I also am not going to tell you about a break-up, or what kind of man I want to marry. We're not all extroverts, people. That's actually not my idea of fun. Get to know your Crazies before you put the spotlight on them. That is my advise to you.
*Note: Once a month during our main church meeting on Sunday where we take the Sacrament, we have a Testimony Meeting where members can go up to the podium and share with the congregation their testimony, or their belief in Jesus Christ and the thoughts on their faith and what they know to be true. It can be a very uplifting and inspiring hour. And sometimes some member, usually a woman, will plow through a box of Kleenex during their testimony.
Note the way Kermit's faux hawk elongates his head,
And then we saw him come back down.
At first, he didn't make it very far, because the snow was still pretty thin on the hill. We could see him kicking his little feet to try to get further. But after a while he really did well. He almost gave up half way through, but K felt that she needed to cheer him on, and so she opened our window, and, I'm sure to the delight of our neighbors, yelled as quietly as possible "don't give up!" And so he turned around and kept going for a while. He and K had a little exchange, and we learned that he was "getting it ready for his kid." (To which K said "no you're not!"
It's so fun, because our apartment is situated right by the entrance of the complex, and there is a big hill at the entryway. The staff will cone it off when it gets too icey so that people won't try to drive on it (black ice is bad), and the kids will all bring their sleds or plastic bags or what have you, and sled down the hill. It's fun to watch.
